


Snow Gardens

by Eryvvan



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Plot, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryvvan/pseuds/Eryvvan
Summary: Six years ago, the end of Salem marked the end of Weiss Schnee’s complicated adolescence. When Weiss is forced to relive her past and her childhood in a new light, she must confront the people that have made her who she is and herself.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. Journey Into the Known World

“Weiss, we’re worried about you,” she said. 

Weiss pushed her chair from under the table. She stood. “Not this again.” 

Weiss remembered why she so often disliked these ‘team nights’. Yang took to peppering her with questions about her whereabouts and actions during the last week or the last month. Blake treated her like she was a ticking time bomb and the solution was love and attention. Weiss loved her former teammates dearly, but her preferred method of communication was over the internet and separated by scroll screens. 

“Thank you for the meal,” Weiss said. She grabbed her coat from the hanger. The white long coat was tattered and darkened from exposure to the elements and various Grimm, and Weiss held a fondness for it and its miraculous survival over the years. She put on her shoes, boots commissioned by the SDC and fitted for Weiss. She hadn’t replaced them in two years, and the wear was starting to show. Myrtenaster was already on her hip. Weiss didn’t take the Multi-Action Dust Rapier off when she didn’t need to.

Yang scowled at Weiss, and Weiss knew she would go on a tangent and try to convince Weiss to stay and talk―to behave like a “reasonable, healthy adult” and to stop “stomping off when things get difficult”. But this time, Blake put a hand on Yang’s shoulder and shook her head. 

“Let her go,” Blake said. 

A gust of wind blew past Weiss as she opened the door. Weiss shivered, though she was used to the chill. _Let her go._ Those words made Weiss cold. 

“Do you have a place to stay?” Blake asked her. 

“I’ll find one.” Weiss stepped into the snowstorm. She looked up and saw the stars litter the night sky. The shattered moon felt ominous against those stars. Weiss had come to think of it as a haunting reminder of the past. 

Though she promised Blake she would find a place to stay, Weiss ended up resting under a large tree on the bottom of the hill. She summoned a Boarbatusk to block the snow and warm her body. Weiss spent most of the year on the outskirts of civilization in order to fulfill missions as a Huntress, and the wilderness had grown on her over the years. She preferred silence and solitude over people.

Surely, the Weiss at seventeen would have denounced this Weiss who was now twenty-seven. Perhaps she would have commented on the uncivilized nature of Weiss’s way of living, and how Weiss could never bring herself to settle in one place. Her face would morph into disbelief over how Weiss dressed or who she associated herself with. And she would have certainly been furious, aghast even, when she learned that Weiss didn’t care to hold any stocks in the SDC, and cared even less for ownership over the company.

Though Weiss vaguely remembered her younger self that way and felt immense disappointment over the person she was, she couldn’t say she liked who she was now either. It was hard to tell who she liked better or even if she liked herself at all. Given all of that, Weiss thought that at the very least her younger self never had to deal with the problems she now dealt with and the memories that only serve to hurt her to remember. As Weiss grew drowsy, she was left with the feeling that _it was simply easier to live back then._

* * *

  
  


The birds were chirping and the sun was shining in her eyes. Blades of grass tickled her hands. The ground was dry and soft. 

Something was very, very wrong. 

Her head felt light and breezy, a sensation not dissimilar to when your body adjusted to a sudden change in air pressure. Her ears popped as she moved into a sitting position and opened her eyes. 

The bright spots faded from her vision, and Weiss gained a perspective on her situation. She had fallen asleep under a hill in Patch, the island Blake and Yang called home, and awakened in a different location altogether. In front of her, the trees formed a circle around a large and ancient temple. The temple had fallen into disrepair long ago; large sections of the temple were missing and foliage grew from cracks in the wall. 

The abandoned temple in Emerald Forest was a source of great and ancient power. It was also a place Weiss had hoped she’d never see again.

Weiss found Mytrenaster’s grip and felt an immense sense of relief. She drew the weapon from her hip. Then, she made a long, thin straight line in the ground. Following the line, she took nine steps in a heel-to-toe fashion. After the ninth step, she turned on one foot and returned to the beginning of the line the same way. She concluded that she was not under the influence nor mildly hallucinating. This conclusion gave Weiss little to no comfort.

The situation itself was far too abnormal. Weiss was in the Emerald Forest, a place she was intimately familiar with, in the ring of power of _that temple_. Besides that absurd coincidence, the Emerald Forest was in Vale, which shared seasonal cycles with Patch. Therefore, it should be that time of year when it was freezing and snowing. Weiss recalled hearing that a snowstorm had passed Vale mere days before, and it was that same snowstorm she encountered last night. 

Weiss looked at the green leaves on the trees and the soft, sprouting grass and flowers on the ground and concluded that it was not, in fact, wintertime. 

She opened her scroll, the newest SDC model, and a gift from her brother. There was no service, and Weiss had the best service provider on Remnant. Nonetheless, if Weiss traveled to Beacon, she could hook her scroll on the staff internet. If she was in an elaborate hallucination, it would almost certainly fall apart by then. 

Weiss commended herself on her brilliant plan and set a course for Beacon. 

* * *

The feeling that something was very wrong grew as Weiss saw more of Beacon Academy over the horizon. In Weiss’s first and only year at Beacon Academy, a battle later penned by scholars as the _Fall of Beacon_ destroyed much of the infrastructure of the towers. When Beacon was reclaimed and rebuilt four years later, the towers were reconstructed and modernized. The Beacon before the Fall and the Beacon after the Fall were vastly different in appearance and technology.

Weiss knew all of this. She had been to the new Beacon, and she had seen the reconstruction with her very own eyes. 

The old Beacon Academy loomed over her; the core CCT tower and the signature pointed towers surrounding the CCT destroyed in the _Fall of Beacon_ were unscathed. The weather was clear, and it felt like spring. But even more so, it felt like an image straight from Weiss’s teenage years. An odd, nervous feeling bubbled in Weiss’s stomach as she passed the front gates. 

A face from the past stood next to the entrance beyond the courtyard. It was impossible, Weiss herself made sure it was impossible, yet _she_ stood there. 

“Headmaster Ozpin awaits your arrival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time-travel fanfics often fail because while there is a good premise, the author is unable to deliver in execution over the long term. This is unfortunate, because I love time-travel fanfics. So I decided to plot my own.
> 
> If it doesn’t exist, make it yourself?


	2. Living in the Past

“In theory, ‘time travel’―I put that in air quotes, mind you―is not impossible. In practice, the probability that the traveler does not internally combust, appear in the ‘past’ in a state of non-living, or die of some other infinite number of means, including those you and I cannot even conceive of, is incomprehensibly high. And that is just the act of time traveling itself without even considering the logistics of time travel. What are the chances that someone invents time travel  _ and  _ time-travels successfully? Though, if one were to think of time-travel from a non-linear way―say, if time is not one stream but  _ branching  _ streams―one could hypothesize that given the number of branches in the stream of time, it is  _ not  _ unlikely that in one stream out of one, no,  _ one hundred _ trillion _ ,  _ there is a situation where time travel successfully occurs. In that case, did that time traveler move from a later part of a stream to an earlier part of that same stream, or did that time traveler simply jump from one stream to another stream?” 

The glass ceiling displayed the interlocking cogs and gears that made up the clockwork mechanism of the Beacon Tower. The Headmaster Ozpin kept his office underneath that ceiling. The office itself was sparse, save for the automaton worktable pressed against the arched window that overlooked Beacon Academy. 

Weiss watched the headmaster pace from the left of his office to the right and to the left again. His assistant, Glynda Goodwitch, stood at attention next to his desk. Glynda watched Weiss passively, and Weiss wondered how she had never noticed those piercing eyes as a student. 

“I don’t know,” Weiss finally said to Ozpin. “I already told you.  _ I don’t know how I appeared in the past. _ ”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry. It’s a lot to take in.” Ozpin gingerly sat down at his desk. Finally, an end to the pacing. It was driving Weiss mad.

_ A lot to take in.  _ Weiss nearly laughed. Glynda had greeted her at the entrance, tasked with investigating the anomaly that had appeared in the Emerald Forest earlier in the morning. She then deduced that Weiss was from a different time with a single phrase. Weiss had simply said to her:  _ you’re supposed to be gone from this world.  _

With that one phrase, Glynda was also able to conclude that Weiss was in the wrong time and also come to several other conclusions about the future. Salem was gone, and so too were the relics and maidens. Everything that Ozpin spent his millennia long life trying to achieve was resolved within the next dozen years. 

Given that, yes, it was  _ a lot to take in.  _ Though, Glynda and Ozpin weren’t aware of several key details. There were many things that one offhand comment couldn’t tell, and Weiss wasn’t too keen on revealing all of the future to the one person that might have the power to screw it up. 

“I assume you’d like to return to your future, Ms. Schnee,” Ozpin said. It was inconceivable to him that someone  _ wouldn’t  _ want to return to a future where Salem and relics and maidens didn’t exist. “Even so, I’d simply like to emphasize that your knowledge and abilities would be  _ invaluable  _ to the fight in this time. While I’m sure you’ve more than earned the peace in your time, this is an opportunity to save the world  _ a second time over. _ Of course, there will be benefits: a place to stay and an infrastructure that will support someone who  _ doesn’t legally exist _ , for example. The choice is yours, though I presume you have no way home regardless.”

“It doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice,” Weiss said. 

“There is always a choice,” Glynda told her rather unhelpfully. “Though some are more desirable than others.” 

Weiss snorted. She tilted her head and stared at Ozpin in that way that always made the people around her uncomfortable. Ozpin didn’t squirm under her gaze; he tightened his grip on the handles of his chair. “Listen,” Weiss said, “I don’t care what you offer me:

“ _ I would have said ‘yes’ regardless. _ ”

* * *

For a chance to create a better future―what would she give? It was half dumb luck and half naive optimism that compelled them to the end the first time; a miracle that they only suffered the consequences they did. Weiss was turning her back to all of these accomplishments. She was daring to say ‘we could have done better’. Those sacrifices that they took to ensure victory; they weren’t necessary. 

To think that was terrible and selfish. 

The shattered moon reflected across her window. The sky was clear that night, but there were no stars. It made her skin crawl; it was another reminder that she did not belong in this time, like the season and the building. 

In a bizarre twist of fates, Weiss was dorming in Beacon again, but as a professor rather than a student. It was a fine solution to a time-traveling dilemma; Weiss’s Huntress Certification for 1332 was a useless piece of paper in 1322.

Weiss turned on her scroll.  _ Property of Weiss Schnee  _ and then a password request displayed on the screen. When Weiss had used this scroll in front of Yang for the first time, Yang told Weiss that keeping the default wallpaper on her home screen was  _ so uncool  _ and took the scroll from Weiss’s hands. She forced Weiss to take a selfie with her in the living room then and there. Blake was in the background, rolling her eyes. Yang said that Blake rolled her eyes with love. Weiss never had the heart to change the photo, even though the frame was shaky and the composition was terrible. 

She hesitated briefly, then slid her finger across the screen. It forced the scroll into stasis lock, which would shut down the system completely and conserve the battery until she powered on the scroll again. Weiss put the scroll in the first drawer of the bedside table. She opened the scroll Ozpin gave her. 

It was a generic datapad for professors. By Weiss’s time, the model was considered ancient―something found in the homes of antique collectors and people that refused to upgrade their technology. The scroll stored information on Beacon Academy, its staff, and its students. 

_ The Academy reopens tomorrow,  _ Ozpin had said to her.  _ You attend Beacon this year, and you appeared at Beacon the day before your younger self does the same. An unusual coincidence.  _

_ Regardless, it’s too late to grant a new position to an ‘unknown professor’. Instead, you'll take over one of Glynda’s electives. We’ll say that you’re an expert in that field. I think you’ll enjoy it: it’s an elective called ‘Field Combat and Tactics’. _

Ozpin wasn’t so careless that he let Weiss teach the day after she was ‘hired’. To free her from teaching in the first week of school, Weiss was assigned as one of the professors to oversee the Freshmen Beacon Initiation, an academy tradition that formed the four-party teams of Huntsmen and Huntresses that lasted for a student’s academy life.

Weiss’s young adult life was characterized by violence and fear. The teenage Weiss became unrecognizable to the adult Weiss that came out on the other side of those four years. And Weiss knew so little of her teammates before they were thrust into the battle between immortals and gods that she wasn’t sure if she could accurately recall who  _ they  _ were before the four years of hell either. 

Seeing them again meant Weiss finally had the chance to know if her memories were right or wrong. What if her memories were wrong? What if she was blinded by nostalgia? What if the year of her life that she remembered most fondly didn’t hold up in reality?

Could she confront that reality?


	3. Children in the Fold

Weiss spent the first day of school in her room. Glynda visited in the morning; she ran over the curriculum plan and teacher’s notes for the elective Field Combats & Tactics with Weiss. Weiss found most of the curriculum theoretical or terribly out-dated. The Grimm had grown smarter and stronger and the technology to kill them had developed exponentially as well since the last time Glynda Goodwitch was on the field. Weiss decided to revise the class entirely rather than teach something she didn’t believe in. It also gave her a convenient excuse to avoid going outside and meeting the freshmen. 

Her plans for the day were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was half-past six. Ozpin had probably finished giving his welcoming speech to the students. Weiss ignored the knocking. It grew more obnoxious.

“He-llo~? This is the room of the new professor, yes?”

Weiss stopped writing. Professor Port taught Grimm Studies during her first year. He went into hiding after Beacon fell and came to their aid during the final months of Salem’s invasion. After the invasion, he returned to teaching in Beacon. It was his true passion. 

“Yes, this is,” Weiss finally said.

“Fabulous! You’re invited to the teacher’s lounge on this fine night. We discuss plans and hopes for the coming year as fellow professors―and there’s drinks! It’s a time-honored tradition.” 

  
Weiss looked down at her notes. Half-written ideas were scattered across the table. Glynda’s notes had been dissected and critiqued with a violent red pen. It was a long time since Weiss did anything that involved  _ crowds of strangers.  _ She hated knowing that there were strangers who knew about her life, her exploits and failures, when she didn’t even know their names. Sometimes, they worked up the courage to stop staring at her behind her back and approached her; they said  _ I’m so sorry for everything you went through  _ and _ oh, that must have been so terrible  _ and  _ I feel so bad for you, you were so young  _ and they always ended saying  _ but you must be so proud of what you accomplished _ . It’d be nice to meet people that didn’t know or care who Weiss was.

Weiss looked at the door and said, “I’ll consider it.”

“Very well! See you then.” Professor Port marched down the hallway. His footsteps were so loud Weiss heard then even at the very end of the hallway. 

Weiss scoffed at herself. Ridiculous, she thought even as she pulled her coat over her shoulder. She was wasting her time. 

* * *

The lights in the teacher’s lounge were dimmed. Someone had decided desk lamps were more fitting for the atmosphere than sterile white light. Weiss recognized most of the staff scattered across the room. Some of them looked significantly younger than they did in the future, and the rest, Weiss never saw again after the Fall. 

“There’s the new professor!” Port shuffled through the crowd. The attention in the room turned to them. “You’re not what I expected!”   
  
“What  _ did  _ you expect?” Weiss asked. She declined the glass Port offered her.

“We heard Ozpin himself hired a new professor on the spot. Hello, I'm Professor Oobleck, this is Professor Port, by the way. Before you ask, I am the superior professor of us two.” Professor Oobleck appeared next to Professor Port. Instead of an alcoholic beverage, Oobleck held a cup of coffee. His index finger didn’t stop tapping at the side of the cup even once since he began talking. He continued talking over Professor Port’s  _ that’s not true!  _ “You’re quite young for a professor. I estimate that you’re in your twenties. And your appearance is certainly interesting. Is that a _ sword _ on your belt?” (Professor Port said, “Bart, those are not things you say to a young woman!”)

Weiss remembered that Myrtenaster was still on her body. She hadn’t noticed putting it on. “I’m sorry. It’s part of the job description.” She swallowed. In the future, people had grown used to her peculiarities. They knew who she was, and how she became the person she was. “I... haven’t been off the field in a long time.”

Weiss felt like she never left the field. The Land of Darkness was burned into her mind, and the feeling of hopelessness and uncertainty and the need to always be prepared for  _ the next encounter.  _

“Oh, I see,” said Professor Oobleck and Professor Port stepped on his foot. 

They had moved to a corner of the room. Weiss thanked a professor when he handed her a water bottle. A woman with curly orange hair introduced herself to Weiss. She raised her hand and Weiss shook it.

“I’m Professor Peach. You’re my spotter tomorrow.” She was talking about the Initiation. Weiss remembered the Initiation, and wondered if she should have a drink after all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Weiss said curtly. Professor Peach nodded, and turned to Oobleck and Port. 

Weiss listened to the professors talk amongst themselves, reminiscing on the past years and complaining about experiences with students. They considered the budget cuts for the year and compared the number of students in each class. They tried to include Weiss, and when she declined, they let her stay without participating. There was no dark cloud of memories clinging onto them, and no subjects that they stumbled over and awkwardly avoided. 

It was surprisingly―nice. 

* * *

On the day of the Freshmen Initiation, Weiss was in the surveillance room with Port and several other professors. Some of them were more than a little hungover from the previous night, which Weiss found very unprofessional.

Weiss was entranced by the surveillance feed. She and Professor Peach were assigned to the city ruins to the south of the ancient temple, and Weiss was left in a state of  _ waiting.  _ She was waiting for herself―her  _ younger  _ self―and former teammates and old friends. She was waiting to see her teenage years unfold on the screen.

To her left, the Professor of Advanced Mathematics yawned. His feed showed a patch of the forest. There was nothing happening, and he clearly expected nothing to happen. 

Weiss’s earpiece buzzed.  _ “Professor Peach checking in. Spot anything interesting? _ ”

“No,” Weiss said, “Stay on the ground. And stay  _ alert. _ ”

_ “I wouldn’t worry too much. Students don’t show here often. They get intimidated by the cliff and the heights.”  _

Weiss remembered her Initiation experience, and thought that she decidedly  _ wasn’t  _ intimidated by a cliffside. Professor Peach was greatly underestimating the risk-taking abilities of dimwitted teenagers. 

While the surveillance camera had a bird’s eye view of the city ruins, Weiss couldn’t see to the left or right of the ruins. To compensate, Weiss had Professor Peach positioned where she would see students coming towards the city ruins better than the ruins themselves.

As a Freshman, Weiss had foolishly believed that the Initiation wasn’t supervised. She had believed that the Academy trusted in its students’ abilities to perform on the field. The talk on the campus was that the Beacon Initiation was a test of a student’s skills. They said that, no matter what, no professors interfered with the Initiation. 

Of course, these rumors were unfounded. The Academy couldn’t have students disabled or mortally wounded. The public outcry that followed would be a headache to deal with. 

The Initiation was an illusion of danger and nothing more. It was nothing like reality.

Professors were grouped into duos, a spotter and a grounder, and assigned to a certain location in the Emerald Forest. Their responsibility was to ensure the Freshmen’s safety in the field, though they were discouraged from interfering unless absolutely necessary. 

Professor Peach buzzed in. Weiss straightened.  _ “I count three _ ― _ no, six _ ― _ no  _ eight  _ students approaching the city ruins. Is that a _ ― _ a Nevermore and a Deathstalker?” _

There was movement on the surveillance feed. Weiss blinked and rubbed her eye. As she watched, she felt like some sort of cosmic force had been set off balance. 

The Nevermore crashed into the bridge, separating the students into two groups. An orange-haired figure slammed her hammer into the ground. The force propelled her and a blonde boy to the other side. She landed her hammer on the Deathstalker, and accidentally knocked a black and white figure off the bridge as she flew back.

_ “What’s the situation looking like? Should I catch the bow girl?” _

“She got back up,” Weiss said as she watched the black and white figure swing into the air and slash at the Nevermore. 

“Holy shit,” said the Professor of Advanced Mathematics. “Are those a Deathstalker and a Nevermore?” He leaned into Weiss’s personal space, and Weiss stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

The Nevermore slammed into the tower that the four girls were standing on. The Grimm was being unusually clumsy. Weiss realized that it must have been injured before the Initiation. 

The girls began falling.

_ “I’m going in,”  _ Peach decided. 

_ “Do not intervene. This is an order.”  _ The Headmaster had patched into Weiss and Professor Peach’s communication line.  _ “I will tell you when it is necessary,” _

Weiss frowned. “Are you overriding my authority?” 

_ “That’s ridiculous,”  _ Professor Peach said,  _ “They’re children.”  _ But she didn’t move.

“Who let a Nevermore and a Deathstalker inside the Emerald Forest?” 

“They took down a Deathstalker! I’m impressed!” 

A small group of professors had gathered behind Weiss. Even Professor Port sneaked a glance at Weiss’s feed. 

The blonde girl shoved a gauntlet in the Nevermore’s mouth and shot bullets down its throat. It slammed into the ground. A pale figure streaked across the ground. With a thrust of her rapier, a ring of ice caught the Nevermore’s tail. Weiss remembered the thrill. It was the first time she felt free. 

The “bow girl” sent her sickle weapon on a ribbon to the blonde. They pulled it until it was taut. The pale figure summoned a glyph onto the ribbon, Weiss recognized the ‘pull’ glyph, and a red-caped figure, the smallest of all of them, lept on. The pale figure slashed forward, and the glyph changed to ‘push’. 

The caped figure slammed her giant scythe into the Nevermore’s neck. She ran up the side of the mountain, taking the Nevermore with her. The pale figure strained under the pressure of producing a row of ‘pull’ glyphs up the mountain.

Finally, the caped figure reached the end. She surged onto the top of the mountain. The combined force of the acceleration and conclusion of action cleanly decapitated the Nevermore’s head from its body. The separate head and body turned to ash. 

It was the dumbest idea Weiss had ever seen executed, and she couldn’t believe  _ she  _ was a part of it.

The surveillance room erupted into applause.

Weiss felt some sort of vicarious pride at her team’s accomplishment. She couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny figure on the screen. The figure stood on top of the mountain; on top of the world. Her red cape fluttered in the wind, and in that moment, she looked like she was invincible. 

“Well,” said Professor Port, “This year’s freshmen have some potential!”

Weiss felt lighter. She was in a better mood than she remembered being in a long time. Mostly, she was relieved. They were just as absurd as she remembered. They were just as childish and naive. Weiss—hadn’t been wrong. Her choices weren’t wrong.

* * *

Later, after the Initiation ceremony was over, Weiss found an empty hallway. The freshmen were settling into their new team dorms and the other professors were taking their lunch break. Weiss declined the professors’ invitation; she had something else to attend to.

She said, “I told you. I didn’t want the students at risk of any danger.”

_ “Please understand, Professor. It was the Initiation. There are safety measures in place.”  _

“I know. Regardless, this showed you were still willing to put them in dangerous situations. I don’t trust that.” 

She continued, “I never understood why the Initiation was the way it was, but now I think I do. You’re testing the students, seeing who would be the best pieces to add to your crusade against  _ her. _ ”

_ “...You’re right. I won’t deny that. I have no right to deny that. But rest assured, if you keep up your end of our transaction, none of these students will be, as you say, ‘pawns of my crusade’. There won’t be a reason for them to fight. _

_ “Isn’t that what you’re fighting for?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is from another POV. Who will it be...?
> 
> Next Update: Thursday


	4. Goldilocks Affair

It was five days into the school year and Yang already wanted to strangle her entire team, but she had a big sister vibe going on (her  _ actual  _ little sister was there) and she didn’t want to ruin it by committing asphyxiation. Yang loved Ruby to death, but Ruby was her little sister, and people loved their siblings from a safe, non-throttling distance. Yang wanted to be a good influence on Ruby too, and this did not mesh well with what she had planned for college: drinking, partying, and getting into fights.

And now Ruby was in college with her. On the same team _._ So they were _always together._ Yang kept her screaming mostly internalized. The rest went into a pillow. 

Their dad had hated the idea. When Ruby came home with the news, covered in dust and bruises from stopping an attempted robbery, Taiyang told her that he was very proud and that she should get some rest like right now _.  _ Then he locked the door to his office, Yang knew this because she was sitting in that office (she was in trouble again), and he fumed and ranted, and asked the “what the fuck were they thinking?” 

Yang told him that he had the right to hold Ruby back if he thought she wasn’t ready. Taiyang told her that she was supposed to be looking after Ruby while they were in Vale and asked her where, exactly, had she been? Yang remembered punching Junior in the crotch that night and said nothing. 

Taiyang was too weak-willed to pull Ruby out of Beacon without telling her. Instead, he tried to convince Ruby to change her mind. He prepared a nice dinner. He set the scene. He said, “I just think you should finish your education in Signal first” and “it’s a very rigorous course and “everyone else will be two years older than you” and other parent-y things and the next thing Yang knew, Ruby said “I’m a grown adult now so stop treating me like a kid!” and locked herself in her room.

“It’s puberty,” Yang told Taiyang, “But nice going pops.” He made her wash the dishes. 

On the first day, Yang tried to get Ruby to make new friends. This involved ditching her poor introverted little sister and feeling bad about it later, but it turned out okay because karma bit her in the ass and Yang ended up on a team where her little sister was the leader, her little sister’s partner had a giant stick up her ass, and her own partner was a hot goth girl who did a lot of reading and not a lot of talking. 

“I _ can’t believe  _ we have so many classes together,” the partner with a stick up her ass was saying as they walked down the hallway, “We don’t need this many classes together.”

For once, Yang Xiao-Long agreed with Weiss Schnee, heiress to Very Important Dust Company. 

“Chill, Weiss! It’s a team-bonding activity. And besides, this is, like, the only elective we share,” said the leader, who had the most authority on the team, who was also Yang’s little sister.

“I could use some non-team-bonding activities,” the heiress said, “And we only share this elective because  _ you  _ insisted on sharing an elective with the three of us.”

Ruby was getting upset. She talked more and she was biting her lower lip anxiously, and she did those when she was nervous about people. But Weiss wasn’t going to notice that, or know that, or care. 

So Yang left goth girl and walked over and slung one arm around Ruby and the other arm around Weiss and said, “Girls, try not to kill each other before we get to class. Ruby, what was that class called again?” (“Don’t touch me!” screeched the ice princess.)

Ruby beamed, happily distracted by something that did not involve people and was, therefore, a thousand times easier. She said, “Field Combat & Tactics! Doesn’t that sound cool, Yang?”

It did not sound cool. 

Yang said, “That sounds cool.” 

“It was my idea,” said Weiss. She shrugged Yang’s arm off her shoulders. “Unlike you imbeciles, I have all four years of my education thoroughly planned."

To Yang’s immense relief, goth girl (her name was Blake) stopped and pointed to the classroom they were looking for. 

* * *

They entered the classroom a few seconds before the bell rang. This set Weiss in a bad mood, but her mood brightened when she saw Pyrrha Nikos, who was some bigwig up-and-coming huntress/celebrity from Mistral or something. Pyrrha’s partner sat to the right of her. His name was Jaune, and he had somehow nailed Pyrrha as his partner. Half the school would jump at the opportunity to stuff him in a body bag and take his spot, including Yang. Pyrrha and Jaune were sitting in the front row, where no one but people that actually cared about their grades sit. Of course, this meant Weiss jumped at the opportunity to sit next to Pyrrha, and because Ruby said they all had to sit together for “team reasons”, Yang slid in next to Weiss. Blake followed, and Ruby sat at the end.

The professor was at her desk. Yang totally dug the long-coat plus combat boots and gloves look, but the thing that caught her eyes (ha) was the plain black eyepatch covering the professor’s right eye. The professor frowned at them, probably because they were almost late. Wordlessly, she began taking attendance. Her name was written across the chalkboard:  _ Moon Snow. _

“Hey, Weiss, the professor kinda looks like you,” Yang whispered, eyeing the Professor Snow, “Is she your aunt or something?”

Weiss scoffed. “I don’t have an aunt.” Because she was Weiss, she added, “Just because someone  _ looks  _ like me doesn’t mean we’re related. Are you related to all the dumb blondes in the world?”

“Well, everyone’s related to everyone a little, right? So I guess so.”

“I have no words for your stupidity.”

“Ah, shit, she’s glaring at us,” said Yang (“Language!” Weiss snapped). Yang asked, “What do you think happened to her eye?”

“I don’t know, and, frankly, I don’t enjoy invading other people’s privacy,” Weiss said. She took pens, pencils, folders, and binders out of her bag and sorted them onto the order in careful, certain order. “I’m done talking to you, Yang Xiao-Long. I’d rather  _ not  _ get dragged into trouble on my first day in this class.” Then she put up a giant binder between her and Yang. 

“Rude,” said Yang. She turned to Blake. “Wasn’t that rude?”

Blake stared at her. 

“Okay,” Yang said and sank under her desk. She could totally live with this. 

The professor finished attendance. She stood. She said flatly, “You may call me Professor Snow. I am your Field Combat & Tactics professor for the year. In this session, we will be outlining appropriate behavior and conduct and academic expectations for the year.” Ruby’s hand shot into the air. Professor Snow looked at her for a long time, and then she said, “Q&A will be at the end of class.”

This Professor Snow was a hard ass. “Hey, don’t talk to my si—“ Yang remembered that Ruby didn’t want everyone to know that they were sisters. Ruby thought that’d make people think she got into Beacon because of Yang, which was totally dumb, but whatever. “...don’t talk to Ruby like that.” 

“ _ Yang,”  _ Ruby hissed, face bright red. 

Professor Snow glanced at her. She said, “Sorry,” and she continued talking about the curriculum like nothing happened. She began handing out a diagnostics assessment. It had questions like  _ in the circumstances described...what is your course of action? _

“Weiss,  _ Weiss, _ ” Yang said when Professor Snow was at the other end of the room. When the binder didn’t move, Yang said, “Weiss, I’m going to yell your name if—”

“Oh, for love’s sake,  _ what? _ ” Weiss lowered the binder so Yang could see the utter hatred in her eyes.

“I need a pencil.”   
  
Weiss made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Her expression went from mild annoyance to disgust to livid to carefully trained control. She handed Yang a single silver mechanical pencil. 

She said, “Understand that I am only doing this because I do not want my team to be made a laughing stock by the class. If you break this pencil, I will charge you a fee so absurd that you will be paying for it until you graduate. Also, I will never lend you a pencil again.”

“Touché,” said Yang and Weiss reinstated the binder wall.

The next hour went by without interruption. Weiss didn’t talk to Yang and Yang didn’t talk to Weiss. Blake finished the test first and read a book under her desk as she waited for someone else to finish and hand the paper in before her. Ruby made happy noises and “ooh” and “ahh” as she considered the questions with some real thoughts. Jaune raised his hand and asked why some of the questions were about fighting people when they were training to fight Grimm. Professor Snow said, “You’re a naive fool if you think a huntsman’s job ends with Grimm.” Jaune looked queasy after that. The poor boy had probably never hit someone in his life. 

“I will be taking questions now,” said Professor Snow after all the tests were handed in and she’d gone over the class curriculum, school expectations, and safety precautions (Yang spent most of it browsing her scroll, so she couldn’t tell anyone what exactly Professor Snow was saying). 

Weiss got her hand in the air first. Professor Snow did not look pleased with that. She was probably as exhausted by Weiss as everyone else. “Yes?”

“Will there be any physical applications of what we’ve learned during class or is this course entirely theoretical and/or scenario-based?” 

“Physical applications are not in the lesson plans,” said Professor Snow. “As for theoretical… I wrote the lessons with my own experience in mind, which may very well apply to your future.” Seeing Weiss’s expression, Professor Snow added, “I am not  _ washed.  _ I was on the field a few d—weeks ago.” 

Professor Snow addressed Ruby next. The Professor had that same carefully controlled expression on her face as the one that Yang saw on Weiss’s face when Yang asked for a pencil. They were so similar Yang thought that there was no way Professor Snow and Weiss weren’t related. Or maybe all prudes had identical facial expressions. 

“So do we do any cool combat strategies?” Ruby asked. 

“No,” Professor Snow said and at the same time Weiss asked, “Were you listening to what she just said?”

“‘Cool combat strategies’ are not a replacement for practical strategic solutions,” said Professor Snow. She looked like she was in pain when she was saying ‘cool combat strategies’ and she quickly diverted attention to Pyrrha, which didn’t seem to improve her mood that much.

“Will we be learning about the differences in huntsmen and huntresses in different nations?” asked Pyrrha, “For example, Atlesian huntsmen are a part of their government’s military and there have been many cultural conflicts between Vacuo and Vale huntsmen and huntresses..”

“Very good points,” said Professor Snow. “I spent my early days as a huntress in all four nations for various reasons, and I’m willing to share my experiences with the class someday.”

“What  _ are  _ your credentials?” asked Weiss. 

Professor Snow stared at her. And then she said, “I graduated Beacon when I was seventeen. I received my certification in Atlas the following year. I fought in a guerilla war. I assassinated the leader of a cult. Then I became a free agent and took A- and S- class missions until I was offered a position to teach. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes.” 

“Wow, that’s so cool! Can I have your autograph?” asked Ruby. 

“No,” said Professor Snow. She looked genuinely creeped out by the idea. 

Yang snuck a look at the clock above the door. There were six more minutes left before sweet, sweet relief. Weiss and Ruby continued to pepper Professor Snow with questions. Some faunus girl named Violet meekly asked if sophomores were graded harder. Jaune expressed his disbelief that the class was turning out to be way more complicated than he signed up for (Pyrrha offered to tutor him, and damn, was he a lucky guy who didn’t know how to say ‘yes’).

Every time Weiss asked a question about huntsmen, Ruby interrupted or added on to Professor Snow’s answer. Ruby was trying to impress Weiss, which was cute of her little sister, but she was definitely barking up the wrong tree. Yang could tell that Weiss’s infinite pool of patience that she had been drawing from was finally wearing thin. 

"Actually, Weiss," Ruby said, "the percentage of Beacon graduates who pursue huntsmen-related careers is lower than the percentage of Atlas grad—"

Weiss twisted around. She had to stand to look over the binder. She said, “Ruby, will you  _ stop? _ ”

Little tears started forming around Ruby’s eyes. Yang's little sister sank into her seat. 

Professor Snow pinched the bridge of her nose. She muttered something like _ the teenage years _ . Then she said, “Weiss Schnee, stay after class,” which was the first time she said Weiss’s name at all.

Weiss’s head whipped around. The princess was shocked, affronted. How could  _ Weiss Schnee  _ get in trouble? “B-But I—“

“Oh, _ shut it _ , Weiss,” Yang said.

“Yang, you too.”

“What?” Yang spread her hands. “I was just telling her off!” 

“This is absurd,” Professor Snow breathed. Louder, she said, “Listen to yourself.”

Well, shit, Yang thought. And she was leaving Ruby with Ms. Blake “Goth Girl Who Doesn’t Talk” too.

* * *

  
  


Yang contemplated strangling her teammates, Weiss shuffled her feet, and Professor Snow glared at the two of them with her one eye. 

“Can you tell me,” Professor Snow said as she folded her arms neatly across her desk, “what you did wrong?”

Yang, who was a regular attendee to these one-on-one teacher meetings, stubbornly refused to talk. Weiss, who was probably a first-time attendee to these one-on-one teacher meetings said, “I don’t understand how this academic institution thought that  _ Ruby Rose  _ should be given a leadership position. She is a  _ child. _ ”

“Oh. It’s about  _ this _ ,” Professor Snow said before Yang had the chance to (verbally) deck Weiss. “This has been bothering you since the Initiation?”   
  
“Yes! Every day for the past five days!”

“I see.” Professor Snow put her face in her hands. It was the most emotion Yang had seen on her since the class started. The professor sat there with her face in her hands for what was objectively only around seven seconds, but it felt like a long, awkward minute to Yang.

Finally, Professor Snow took her hands off her face and sighed. She said quietly, “There have been many things I wanted to tell my younger self. There would be many times where I told her to change the path she was walking on. I understand how you feel, but, in this case, I would tell my younger self:

“Perhaps you were the better choice. Perhaps you would have made better choices. You are, probably, objectively, correct. But for reasons I will not tell you, Ruby Rose was made leader and it was  _ not  _ a mistake. Focus on being the best second for your leader when you have the chance, because when she is gone and you are leading, you will have already, irreparably, failed _ ,  _ and the only thing that will keep you going as the leader is the thought that you have already failed.” 

Yang didn't know what to say to  _ that _ . She thought a lot of things. She thought Professor Snow was a hard-ass. She thought Professor Snow was kind of a wack-job. She thought Professor Snow was  _ sad,  _ like, sad as a person, but also sad in that moment.

But Weiss—Weiss knew what she wanted to say.

“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong,” Weiss said, “I understand the place you’re coming from. I understand that you mean, ‘focus on being the best second-in-command for your leader so you will be the best leader when you are a leader’. But I will never fail. I have never failed. I am Weiss Schnee, and Weiss Schnee  _ does not fail.  _ I will be the best second for my dimwit of a leader, and when I am the leader, I will remember that I was the best second. And then I will know I am the best leader as well.” She added, "Also, I am  _ not _ your younger self, so I would appreciate it if you did not treat me as if I am."

Professor Snow regarded Weiss with her one eye. Finally, she sighed. She said, "I hope you're right. Lord, I hope I'm wrong."

The professor became lost in her own thoughts. Professor Snow was never really  _ there.  _ She hadn't been entirely present in class, and she wasn't with Yang and Weiss. It was like she was always adrift in her own memories.

"So are we getting detention?" asked Yang, and Professor Snow looked at her like she forgot why Yang was there. 

"Right," said Professor Snow, "Schnee, if you have a problem with your leader, please deal with it privately or file a complaint to guidance." She said to Yang, "Yang, apologize to Schnee. I know you've been bothering her during class."

"You know about that?" Yang blurted because Weiss was looking at her with vindictive glee. 

"I have eye—s." The professor's voice trailed off when she reached the 's' in 'eyes'. "Apologize to Schnee, please."

"Hey, she's a pain in the butt to me too."

“ _ Yang _ ,” said Professor Snow, and it sounded like her dad. It sounded like  _ I know you  _ and  _ I know you can do better.  _

“Sorry, Weiss,” Yang said and she fled the classroom before she had to see the reaction on Weiss's face.

Yang tried her best to act responsibly around Ruby. She really did. She tried her best to be the best big sister to Ruby. She tried her best to be there, because, gods, their moms hadn't done  _ that.  _ But the truth was, she wasn't all that. When Yang was little, before Ruby's mom died, Yang would have done anything for trust and responsibility. Now, she wanted to run. As far, far away as she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Presenting deuteragonist Yang Xiao-Long! At one point in the chapter, I had "Moon" say, "You're a fucking dolt, Weiss Schnee" followed by "Yang and Weiss flinched". Alas, it was too harsh and out-of-character.
> 
> Next Update: Thursday


	5. What the Future Holds

Weiss chose to walk in a lesser-known hallway. Even after classes, students liked to participate in communal huddles and block the hallways. Weiss had gained a reputation for telling these students to disperse, and consequently, she wasn’t very well-liked by the students in the busy hallways. She didn’t like them either, so the feeling was mutual.

She opened the doors and ascended the stairway. The elevator was faster, but Weiss was already half an hour early. In freshman year, Yang always complained about how unfair it was that students were forced to take the stairs when there were working elevators in the building. Someone else told her that the spiral stairs were cool. It felt like a castle, they said. 

Weiss thought to ignore the presence approaching her from behind. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and certainly not with another professor. Most professors had already learned that she had very little interest in them outside of a professional relationship. It wasn’t that Weiss disliked them, specifically, it was just that she had other concerns. But she didn’t tell them that.

“Professor Snow!” exclaimed Professor Port. “May I join you?”

Weiss wanted to say ‘no, you may not’, and so she said, “If you wish.”

The older professor fell into step behind her. “How have you enjoyed your stay in Beacon so far?” asked Professor Port,” I’d say it’s been a month. It really has been a month. Time flies. Hohoho.”

Weiss couldn’t take anyone who unironically said ‘Hohoho’ seriously. 

“A month-and-a-half,” she corrected. Weiss counted every day since she arrived. When she ripped a month out of her calendar, she had felt a great sense of loss. “Professor Port, why are you here?”   
  
“What do you mean? I am merely going in the same direction as you.”

Weiss scoffed. “I know you do  _ not  _ have a meeting with the Headmaster at this day and time. Do not think me a fool.”

“I never thought you a fool. I’ll ‘cut straight to the point’ as they say.” Professor Port’s expression turned something serious. He said, “A student came to me with concerns that you are impeding their academic success.”

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. She breathed through her teeth. Finally, she asked, “Was it Weiss?” 

When she was a freshman in Beacon, Weiss had detested her English professor. She attempted to subtly sabotage the professor throughout the school year. She wrote long-winded emails, she vocally corrected the professor’s grammar and fact-checked the professor’s lessons, and, when she grew tired of playing those games, she claimed that the English professor was academically biased against her (to be fair, she did really think that). It appeared that, after the Regrettable Meeting, the younger Weiss in this timeline had decided to direct her attempts at ‘Professor Snow’ instead.

“Yes. So you are aware?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said Weiss. “I assure you, I have the best of intentions for Weiss Schnee. She is a… strong-minded character.”

Professor Port chuckled. “She certainly is. She could have gone to Atlas, but she chose Beacon instead. I find it intriguing.”

“Do you? It’s to do with her father. Ah—you know, rumors.”

“No. But—well, I do not want to assume—but you look like you’re from Atlas, Professor Snow.”

“Oh? Is that why you distrust me?”

“No, of course not. It’s just, well, the Schnee Dust Company isn’t the most well-liked in those parts. You might be using her, in a way, to express your feelings—uh, unintentionally.”

“That’s preposterous.” Weiss wanted to laugh. She thought about it, but she concluded that it wouldn’t help her case. “I have  _ nothing _ against the SDC. Even if I  _ did,  _ I would know better than to target a  _ seventeen-year old girl _ . Anyway, in the first place, you have no proof that I am ‘impeding on her academic success’ besides her own words.”

Surely, Weiss knew herself better than anyone. 

Professor Port cleared his throat. “Ignoring her questions. Answering her questions with contempt. Emphasizing her faults. Placing higher expectations upon her compared to her peers. Grading her work on a higher scale of quality. Yes, I received these complaints from Weiss Schnee herself, but she also gave me  _ these. _ ”

Weiss snatched the papers from the professor’s hands. She flipped through them, scanning the words. The first report was written by a freshman in the same class. She had given them an ‘A’. The second report was written by the younger Weiss, and Weiss had given her a significantly lower grade, a ‘B’. The reports averaged around the same grammar mistakes and sentence construction issues. They also had similar Content & Organization scores. Nevertheless, their final grades were different. Weiss knew why. The professor’s weighted perspective.

“...I thought she could do better.” Her words sounded hollow, even to herself. In the notes, Weiss had written ‘use of prose unsatisfactory—research middling’. 

“You are a young teacher, Professor Snow. In my old age, I have come to learn that it is sometimes difficult to see your own biases until they are shown to you. I do not blame you for these mistakes, but you must learn from them and improve.”

“But I  _ am— _ ” What was Weiss to say? That  _ she  _ was Weiss Schnee, and surely you couldn’t be bias against yourself? That she had been a freelance huntress for six years, and she was practiced in restraining herself from leaving her worst clients to die? That she was significantly more experienced than Professor Port, who taught students instead of fighting monsters, and he had no right to lecture her?

“Excuse me, Professor,” Weiss said coolly, “I have a meeting I need to attend.”

Weiss imagined that Professor Port watched her back as she walked away. In her mind, she had disappointed him, like she disappointed her father, and her sister, and Qrow, and Yang. 

Weiss had never lived up to anyone’s expectations. Why should she start now?

* * *

The Headmaster and Glynda Goodwitch did not greet her upon her arrival. Ozpin’s face was obscured behind dozens of holo-monitors floating above his desk. Glynda hovered at his side like a dark crow in a fairy tale. They made quite a pair.

“That was a lovely chit chat with Peter,” remarked the Headmaster. He pushed the holo-monitors to the side. 

Weiss scowled at Ozpin. “You were eavesdropping.”

“I see all that occurs in Beacon—and most of the world.”

And all that surveillance didn’t do any good when Beacon fell, did it? It didn’t help when Ozpin was reincarnated into Oscar, and it certainly didn’t help when they were scurrying around the globe in search for maidens and relics. “Listen to yourself. You sound like a pompous prick.” 

“Why, aren’t you in a good mood today?”

Glynda watched from the sidelines passively. 

“How  _ are  _ your classes going?” asked Ozpin.

“Who are you, my father?” Weiss retorted, “They’re fine, contrary to what Professor Port would have you believe. I’ve only had to send students to the nurse twice and to guidance four times. Yang Xiao-Long received a detention for using her scroll during a test—granted, I already knew she was on her scroll during class, but academic assessments  _ actually matter.  _ Oh, and Jaune Arc has been skipping some classes, if you want to look into that.”

“Fascinating,” Ozpin said in an all together not fascinated voice. He folded his fingers together. “Shall we get down to business?”

“Please,” said Weiss.

“In one month, Roman Torchwick will attempt to commence a heist on a shipment of SDC dust. Or so you’ve told me. You’ve also alluded to future events where, ah, force might be necessary.” Ozpin said, “First, let me restate that I  _ am  _ honoring the agreements that you and I made. As you requested, you will have the opportunity to interfere with Torchwick’s plans yourself. However, I cannot guarantee that no students will become involved in the accident.”

“You are implying I will have to deal with that myself.” How could she prevent her team from becoming involved? How could she stop a teenage Blake from stubbornly investigating the White Fang? And Gods, Weiss hadn’t even  _ thought _ about Penny.

“If you want to interpret it that way,” said Ozpin lightly. “Regardless, I called this meeting to discuss our options. You, Glynda, and I are the only three in Vale that are aware of the world’s truth. We are an  _ inner circle _ , if you will.”

Weiss scoffed. “You always liked that term.”

“Do I?” Ozpin asked his assistant. Glynda rolled her eyes. “Well, Glynda and I cannot become involved in events outside of Beacon. Do you see the problem?”

“I can more than handle the situations that will occur outside of Beacon myself, if that is what you are concerned with,” said Weiss. “Luckily for you, most of the recent future will happen in Beacon, anyway.” Until it couldn’t, Weiss didn’t say.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. “That sounds interesting. Sometimes, I wish we hadn’t agreed to keep all but the most recent future to yourself.”

“You suggested it,” Weiss reminded the Headmaster.

“I know, I know.” Ozpin sighed. He pulled one of the holo-monitors to the front of his desk and sent it to Weiss. He said, “I believe one of my operatives could be a powerful asset if he were here with us. Now that we have you, his information-gathering operation is unnecessary. Unfortunately, I have been unable to communicate with him for two weeks.”

“Though,” Glynda added, “That behavior is hardly  _ abnormal. _ ”

Weiss expanded the tabs on the monitors. It was Ozpin’s file on the operative; past reports, last known locations, logs, habits, skills, and  _ relatives.  _ As she scanned those tabs, her feeling of apprehension turned into dread.

“You might have heard of him,” said Ozpin, unaware of Weiss’s inner turmoil, “He  _ is  _ a relative to two of your teammates. Or old teammates, I suppose.”

“Qrow Branwen,” she said without inflection. She licked her lips, dry and chalky from lack of care, nervously. She remembered Qrow, though she woke up each day hoping she  _ didn’t _ remember the Promise. 

“Yes,” Ozpin said. “I want you to find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through several drafts before I found this chapter acceptible. There’s a lot of talking, and the scene with Professor Port was an absolute bore-fest before I realized it would be interesting if Weiss was in conflict with both Professor Port, her younger self, and her own self. I hope it’s less boring now.
> 
> And thank you to everyone who’s reviewed! immsabbel, it’s true. People love using a bad end to excuse the time traveling, but I think it’s much more fascinating to explore regrets when things go right. Jerzu, double the Weiss, double the angst. Memetic Hazard and camper4, thank you for reviewing twice! Like I said to camper4, hope I live up to expectations.
> 
> Next Update: Friday


	6. Turning Wheels

People told her about the holy trinity of college: social life, grades, and sleep. They told her that she could only have two. Yang never cared that much about grades, but she still wanted to pass her classes. Yang would like to have a social life, but she was on a team with three introverts that somehow demanded her attention all the time. And Yang had instituted a bedtime because Ruby was way too young to go out at night, but that meant  _ Yang  _ had to follow the guideline too. So she ended up sleeping more than anything else.

Yang only had English and History without someone from the team. Blake, Ruby, and Weiss were in the Honors English class, and Yang never liked to read. She lucked out with History. But History was last period, so Yang was only free to ditch English.

There was Nora from Team JNPR, the team that her team ended up spending time with the most, but Nora was a little coo coo and, honestly, Yang was pretty sure Nora would ditch class with her if she asked her to. Yang had paid Nora candy to shut up when Yang didn't show up in class that day.

There were almost no freshmen on the courtyard. It was the juniors' lunch break, and some of them were eating and hanging out outside. Yang walked faster. The CCT was only a few buildings away from the humanities building.

Yang had known about the CCT since she was a kid. Every kingdom had one on their national huntsmen academy campus. Yang didn't really pay attention to the history behind it, but she knew they were a gift from Atlas after the War. They were beams that connected the world wide web. They were how the kingdoms communicated with each other. And they also stored everything that had ever been posted on the internet.

The sliding doors parted ways for her, and Yang scrolled into the CCT. Yang had spent most of her teenage life waiting for the day she could go to Beacon and get into the CCT, and it ended up looking like any library's computer room. Some professors and upperclassmen were on the holo-computers, but Yang didn't recognize them. Which was the plan. 

Yang found a quiet spot in the corner of the hall. She scanned the room. No one was looking at her. Yang started the holo-computers, and the monitor formed in front of her. She logged in as a guest.

Yang transferred photos from her scroll into the computer. She spent an embarrassing amount of time finding the image finder option. Her face was hot, with embarrassment or anxiety or both. Chill, Yang, it wasn't like anyone cared what she was doing anyway. The only person that ever cared was her. 

Yang dragged her photos.into the image finder. A loading tab appeared. Wow, Yang thought, that was a lot of time. But she guessed that searching the entire internet for photos wasn't  _ fast. _

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

A shiver went down her back, and Yang just barely resisted standing to attention. Instead, she blurted, "Aw, shit."

So she just cursed in front of Professor Snow. That wasn't great. The one-eyed, ice-cold professor regarded her with, what seemed to Yang, immense disappointment. 

"I mean, ah  _ shod~! _ I mean,  _ no.  _ I'm here—at the CCT—for, uh a school assignment," Yang said lamely.

"I see." Yang released her breath. Professor Snow said, "You're ditching class."

"Please don't get me in trouble," Yang begged, "Please, this is important. I'm actually doing something important for once in my life, okay?"

Professor Snow peered at the holo-monitor. Yang sent it flying into the desk.

"Yang, what are you doing?" asked Professor Snow, and to Yang's despair, the professor sounded  _ interested.  _

"It's personal."

Professor Snow scoffed.

"It  _ is. _ " Yang's face burned. 

"No, I believe you. I was just thinking—no, forget it." Professor Snow dragged a hand down her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I wasn't  _ upset, _ " denied Yang.

"Right," said Professor Snow. She didn't sound like she believed Yang. 

"Why are  _ you  _ here, anyway?" Yang said, "It's your  _ lunch break." _

"I wasn't aware you knew my schedule?"

"Well, uh, I do. Deal with it."

"I was looking for someone, actually," said the professor. She made a face. It didn't seem like she wanted to look for this person that much. "The CCT is a good place to start."

"That's crazy, I'm looking for someone too," Yang said before she thought not to.

"Oh, you are?" Professor Snow raised an eyebrow. It reminded Yang of Weiss. Weiss liked to raise an eyebrow whenever she was pretending to be surprised or impressed. 

"Yeah, I guess." Shut up, Yang thought, stop talking. She was going to embarrass herself. "No one important."

"You said you were doing something  _ very important." _

Yang sank into the seat. "Maybe a little important."

Professor Snow's grip on the back of her seat tightened, and then she let go. Professor Snow was waiting for Yang to explain. Yang didn't say anything. 

"I always wondered," the professor mused, "Why you'd search for someone who didn't want to be found?"

"W-What? Well, what does it matter?" asked Yang.

"If they don't want you to find them, then they don't want to see you. They don't want to acknowledge your existence," said Professor Snow, clinical in her explanation.

"I know she doesn't want me, but I still want answers. I want the truth. I want  _ why _ . Those things have nothing to do with what  _ she  _ wants," Yang said defensively.

"I see. I'm beginning to understand. It's not about her."

"Well, I guess. I think she can't be that great of a person, so I'm not getting my hopes up. I'm not asking for her acceptance or whatever. But whether she likes it or not, we have history, y'know?" 

"Some people might not want to remember their history. Some people might be…" Professor Snow looked for the right word, " _ Hesitant _ to see people from their past. They—she—might react poorly."

"I'll take that risk. I've been ready to take that risk since I was nine." 

"Hm. Resilient in the face of danger. Good luck, Yang. You never know—your mother may be closer than she appears."

"I seriously doubt that. I've searched all of Vale ten times over by now," Yang said drily.

Professor Snow closed her eye. "You will find her when the time comes. I will ensure it so."

"Uh, okay?" Yang said.

"Look at the time," Professor Snow said blandly, "I need to go."

"Weiss hates you," Yang said.

Professor Snow sighed. "I know."

"But you're not so bad."

"Hm." Professor Snow nodded stiffly. She raised and lowered her hand. She shook her head, thinking better of it, and walked away.

Yang pulled her holo-monitor above her desk. In the time she had been talking to Professor Snow, it had finished searching the database. Yang thrummed with anticipation as she pulled up the results.

Yang scrolled through pictures of her parents' time at Beacon. They were called Team STRQ. A team of family, her dad told her once, figuratively, and then literally, and then it all fell apart. Raven Branwen was smiling in so few of those photos, but it was the first time Yang had seen her mother express anything besides stoical grimness The results thinned out after Team STRQ's third year. Suddenly, they were gone from the public eye. Raven stopped showing any emotion if she was in the team photographs at all.

Team STRQ graduated. Twenty-one photographs for ten years worth of time. One photograph seven years ago of a raven-haired woman gliding on rooftops—and then nothing. Nothing in seven years. It was like Raven Branwen, Yang's mother, had disappeared into thin air.

"Dammit!" Yang hit the desk. Heads turned at the sound. Professor Snow looked over her monitor and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

Yang logged out of the computer. She stormed out of the CCT. Nothing, nothing, nothing. It was always nothing in the end. Gods, why did she keep on trying? Maybe Professor Snow had the right idea. Maybe she should stop trailing after someone who didn't want to be found like a lost puppy. 

Raven Branwen did not want anything to do with Yang Xiao Long.

The bells chimed for half-time. Yang raised her head. The juniors collected their things and walked into the buildings. Nora waved at her out of the window of their English class. A raven squawked and flew away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I've been so busy since classes start.
> 
> Updates will have to be less frequent until I have more time.
> 
> This chapter is basically coming straight out of the oven. :D
> 
> Next Update: October 9th


End file.
